


The Game Be Damned For A Dance

by Cakie



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-04
Updated: 2015-02-04
Packaged: 2018-03-08 02:53:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,456
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3192545
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cakie/pseuds/Cakie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Inquisitor has to make appearances, he has to be perfect, poised, and polite to the shifty eyed vultures that swarm him at the extravagant event of Empress Celene's ball, ready to pick his bones clean of all his meat and merit. He has already lost favor greatly for being a Qunari, the lavish company none too quiet of calling ox at his back and questioning the inquisition's ability based on his thuggish stature. He has to juggle the spoiled crowd and pose as the perfect picture of a man, and then some, as well as scour the Winter Palace for useful information, and prevent the apocalyptic nightmare he and Dorian viewed together when they were sent forward in time.  </p><p>He has his companions there for support but the weight on his hefty shoulders is still great and the cost of failure as searing as the pampered, doe-like eyes that try to pierce their way through his very being whenever his back is turned. He is not a man who knows well how to play this 'game' but he hopes in all of this smothering business he can steal a moment of fun at this event with the noble man his heart yearns for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game Be Damned For A Dance

Judgement began the very moment the Inquisitor's foot landed onto the pristine cobblestone steps of the garden. People, wearing fanciful masks and bulbous, silky clothing trained their eyes to his towering frame and saw only what they themselves put out, a thin layer of who he was, apparent only by the outermost layer of his skin and clothing. Their whispers were a dull but collective hiss, surrounding him head on and the peaceful quiet at his back beckoned him with tremendous allure. He stiffened with the call of his duty and the fear lurking in the back of his heart not only for what was immediately ahead, but for what could possibly be coming in but a year's time should their mission tonight fail. Leliana, Cassandra, Varric; They all sacrificed themselves in that nightmare world to have another start, they put their hope in the Inquisitor that he could prevent their agony and the overtaking of the entire world. The people pledged to the Inquisition, to him, were all hopeful and Voyand Adaar could not allow himself to let them down. 

Bolstering his courage he strode forward with his wide, powerful chest puffed out, straining the expensive formal suit Josephine had tailored specifically for him that night. Her voice purred in his mind, briefing him on the situation with a skill to summarize what was no doubt a tower of papers' worth of information in only the time it took for their cart to clatter towards the Winter Palace from the town below. Guards clasped their hands to their breast as he passed, bowing their heads low with a thin crinkle of metal. At the end of the short tunnel of guards stood Grand Duke Gaspard de Chalons, the man who the Inquisition had managed to coax an invitation out of who also happened to be Empress Celene's cousin and one of the important guests the Lady wished to discuss peace with. He was a short man, though to anyone but a Qunari perhaps he may have been average, with a thick Orlesian accent that sounded gravelly and rough while also having a light air to it that gave Voyand no comfort towards the human the way it breezed out of him so smoothly. He wore an impossibly reflective metal mask with a thin sharp nose jutting out at the Qunari Inquisitor. He gave a hospitable greeting, hinting towards a hope of alliance between them and shared Voyand's desire to end the civil war. He certainly seemed interested and joyful for the Inquisitor's assistance that night and even requested his help by sliding in news that Briala, the Elven Ambassador and Celene's spymaster may be trying to disrupt the negotiations. Voyand took this information as his first lead and promised the Duke he would look into it. The Duke insisted upon Voyand's discretion and gave him a worrying token of advice just before he left,

"I detest the game, but if we do not play it well, our enemies will make us look like villains." Voyand's large, dark, and callused hands buzzed with anxious, restless energy as the human's words sat around him like an ominous cloud. He only hoped he had the skills to stand toe to toe with nobility that grew up with deceit sewn into their bedtime fables. He was the face of the Inquisition and he had to be perfect. The Duke slid off, towards the center of the party inside of the massive and impressive palace, leaving Voyand momentarily alone and out in the open. People shamelessly doubted him, their voices carrying to his sharp, pointed ears. 'How could he be the Herald of Andraste?' He had to remind himself not to let their words get to him. He won the favor of a drifty eyed noblewoman before he even entered the massive front doors; He found her ring for her which lay not more than 5 feet from where she stood, absolutely clueless. His first good deed, and the favor of the grateful woman encouraged him and gave him the lift he needed to raise his head as an equal to these men and women reminding Voyand of proud and fluffy doves with sharp but thin metal coated onto their beaks. 

He had a taste of spywork, tuning in his ears to the chatter of suspicious and careless guests and after some wandering he finally joined the action through the elegant metal gate that squeaked open as two guards parted it for him. Josephine, looking humbly elegant in her red general suit, was the first to greet him, though her presence came with some very quick warnings and advice for the situation she was a comforting sight on the battlefield. There was more to have been said than just that simple briefing before they left for the palace but Voyand had hoped not. He was a rather simple man, who enjoyed many simple things. A game was all well and good but he had the feeling if he so much as breathed wrong the posh collection of money clad party goers would despise him and the Inquisition forever more. Stakes this high took the fun out of playing and he related to the Duke, as he felt he too would hate this game he was forced to play. Josephine's warnings friskily hopped from the tip of her tongue and from her dark black cherry lips, making the idea of this game of 'life and death' less intimidating despite the description. Voyand was definitely sweet on the woman, fond of her beyond the pull of friendship but he respected her far more and despite some innocent flirting that went over her silky black haired head he spoke to her entirely professionally. She was a delicate seeming woman but one who put in the work of three of her own. She was strong willed and exceptionally capable of discussion and negotiations as well as being one of the major cogs in the mechanism of the Inquisition. She was also beautiful, dark, skilled, with bright but knowledgeable eyes and fit in well amongst the pretty and the poised lot surrounding her, akin to the nobility she was born to. 

His companions were somewhere at this party, the select members of his inner circle he had chosen to attend the ball and help him, he suggested Josephine pass along her warning of extreme caution to each of them, pointing out specific need towards informing The Iron Bull who surely stuck out at this soiree like a sore thumb. She agreed, assured him that everything would be alright and he did his best to believe her but the way she worriedly muttered, "Andraste help us." under her breath made his palms tingle and feel clammy. He stepped into the shining, awe demanding vestibule, the entry up the stairway glittering and looking to be an opening up to a golden glow of elegant wonder. Voyand felt small for one of the very few times in his life. He was a dwarf compared to these intricate, golden, luminous decorations and their rich wonderful warmth. He quickly fussed with his suit, making sure the buttons were done up right and the ornaments hung as they should. He pushed his hot, wide palm down the center of his head, between his curved black horns and over the tightly braided white rows of his hair that ran down to the base of his neck. The armor on the tips of his horns had been polished he recalled so hopefully it sparkled as everything in this building did. He wrung his chalky brown hands together and exhaled the stress knots from his chest with control. His pink eyes locked on the goal, the golden aura at the top of the staircase. He was going to join them up there, in the sparkling land of wealth. Voyand ascended the staircase and was surprised to find the upper floor carried the same air as the lower. He expected even the oxygen to be rich but it was the same, nothing had changed and the floor became a lot less daunting. He chatted with the nobility scattered about, listened to secrets and steadily planted his roots in the marble floors. 

He entered the ballroom, warmed up and ready to play this game, he hoped. He was introduced to The Empress after The Duke and following his own introduction his companions were listed behind him of their titles and lives. It seemed ironically cheap in a place full of plenty for his friends to be summarized in the bare minimum of their accomplishments. The announcer's awkward telling of The Iron Bull's introduction however tugged his plump lips up slightly and lightened the grave march down the lengthy hall towards where the Empress stood. She was radiant, posed like a doll with fair pale skin and a fan of glimmering metal shining out from her back like sunbeams. Her voice carried an elegant, soft Orlesian curl, spoken from her chest which she rose with her chin high and proud. The Duke Gaspard did not waste time with a friendly appearance and seemed impatient to rush into their discussions, vocalizing so to the Empress. He bowed and left the Inquisitor under the tall and piercing gaze of the endangered Empress. Another cousin, the Grand Duchess Florianne was introduced to Voyand and bowed to the Qunari from the Empress' side. She voiced mild surprise that the Inquisition had arrived to the party and Voyand mindly wondered if perhaps disappointment underlined her innocent seeming statement. She was also a fair skinned woman, with short hair only atop her head, the sides and back shaved off truly pronouncing her long neck and lean face. She wished to speak to the Inquisitor later and that left Voyand with a knot in his throat for surely speaking to her would be full of twists and turns as one so high up in nobility. Really, who could he trust in here? Besides his own company, perhaps no one. He spoke to the Empress with fluidity and subtle grace, leaving out any hints of danger as it was far too soon to begin alarm with no proof. It seemed easy enough, thank her for her kind words, compliment her palace. His chest felt lighter with each word he spoke.

He stepped away from the stand before her with the lingering thought of a dance on his mind. Surely they would all expect him to dance and look on at him judgingly and luckily Josephine had taught him how. He hoped to surprise Dorian with his skills as no doubt the Tevinter man expected him to be as clumsy to a song as he was powerful with a spell. He was perhaps the only noble in here Voyand sincerely wanted to impress. Voyand had a cheerful and enjoyable chat with Josephine and her sister then with a few more secrets grazing the tips of his ears he went to Leliana's side to speak with her. She was informed, of course as their spymaster. Leliana had a light toned voice, heavy from her tongue but pleasant and sweet sounding. She quietly breathed the information she had, the concerns Voyand would have to investigate and the fact the empress had an occult advisor who seemingly charmed the court as if by magic. Very interesting and suspicious. Leliana kept her talk brief, to business and then drifted off to leave Voyand to his work. He didn't know who out of his higher ups had the worst job but he felt in that moment he would gladly throw on a short red wig and paint his dark skin white if he and Leliana could switch roles for the night. His horns sticking out would give him away though, that and his massive unfeminine body. Drats, the shallow plot was impossible from the start.

Familiar faces kept him going, Cullen and Varric catching his eye from by the stairway of the Vestibule. Both the dwarf and the ex Templar wore the same red suit the Inquisition party all wore and looked well cleaned and spiffy. Voyand was surprised Varric hadn't torn open his shirt to let the forest of pale soft hairs breath on his chest. Surely they must have been suffocating in that thick fancy cotton. Cullen, looked like a dream, perfection and nothing less in a man. He was tall and fair, muscular and his smile stretched across his strong but chiseled cheeks like the wings of Andraste herself spreading towards the sky. His suit was lucky to hug that body, to curl and pronounce the figure sharp as a wedge of cheese. Voyand let out a deep and dreamy sigh for only a moment but he had accepted his affections towards Cullen would never bear fruit. The man had been so sweet to him and while still very keen on the idea of friendship told him friendship was all he could ever give another man. Again, if only the red wig and white paint would work. It was a silly fantasy, one Voyand treated like a childish giggle bubbling in his throat he would often swallow down. Cullen made him feel like a butterfly, tender and fragile was fluttering around in his massive cavern of a chest, possibly the only delicate feelings he had ever been witness to within himself. He was not unhappy with Dorian however, and he was not settling with the Tevinter man either. Voyand liked to think of his feelings towards Cullen as the feelings of thousands of adolescent human girls on the topic of the King of Fereldon, Alistair. Voyand didn't swoon for the king of course, but he understood why those tiny human girls all did in waves. 

Enough time was spent admiring Cullen, and Voyand finally pulled himself away before he attracted unsavoury attention from the guests. He desired to find his own man anyways, to dance with him and see the surprise momentarily replace that charming smug smirk almost constantly affixed below his perfectly curled moustache. There were still many people to talk to, so much business and secrets and while Voyand had to be patient and listen intently through it all he grew increasingly more needy to have even a brief word with Dorian. It was important yes, interesting somewhat, but not what he wanted to be doing. He was a responsible man but that did not stop him from internally whining up to the sky like a spoiled brat that he could not hold the rich caramel fingers of his companion between his own fingers while speaking to three identically dressed women, sent from Celene to give him a private message. Once they all left him with graceful bows he focused on the familiar tuft of smooth black hair across the guest gardens. He was something to behold, carrying himself like one of the many nobles and yet standing alone, shunned by the rich and the shallow. Voyand appreciated him fondly, a vibrant red rose in a field of delicate but seedy dandelion tufts.

"Dorian!" He called to him casually, lifting a meaty hand in greeting and catching the shifting eyes all darting to the two of them. Dorian lifted his warm honey eyes from dully scanning the crowd that distanced him and his eyes crinkled up happily at the sight of the Qunari he was courting. 

"Inquisitor!" He sighed with relief and seemed to stretch upwards as a prouder figure in Voyand's presence which hadn't seemed possible gazing at him before. "You would think I smelled like a corpse the way these nobles scrunch their noses up at me!" He scoffed and then sighed heavily. "I thought it would feel like home coming here, the lies, the clothing, the lies and yes all that is very nostalgic but here I am, by far the belle of this ball standing alone by the fountain drinking all the wine I can get my hands on. It's depressing... _but_ at least there is a guaranteed lack of blood rituals happening." He seemed to regret accompanying the Inquisitor here but was taking the situation in stride, and Voyand appreciated that he came.

"It is indeed a shame..." Voyand said, offering Dorian a soft smile to ease his suffering. Dorian's thin eyebrows shot up and a doubtful chuckle breathed out of his soft looking, hazelnut lips.

"Oh? Are you intending to liven up the night with a little ritual Inquisitor?" He said teasingly. "If you do please allow me to join, I feel almost murderous stuck amongst these snobs." Voyand knew Dorian was against blood magic, against the Magisters of his land and so he didn't take the proposition seriously.

"What? Oh no!" Voyand softly exclaimed and nervously darted eyes around hoping none of the gossiping lips humming around them caught onto that tale to tell. "I meant the part about you standing here all on your own! And aren't _you_ one of those 'snobs'?" Dorian's lips curled up, lifting his fine silky black moustache and he hummed in delight at what Voyand had asked. 

"Ah yes these are indeed my people, I grew up around this crowd my whole life. All these whispers and hushed gossip are like a comforting lullaby, tempting me to doze off. However, the people here all look at me like I dressed in elven rags despite me knowing that I look like quite a dream this evening and so they are for tonight, the snobs." Voyand chuckled from deep in his throat and smiled at Dorian. 

"Thank you so much for coming tonight, Dorian. I'm sorry you have to deal with their scrutiny." Voyand hoped he conveyed his gratitude and guilt in his expression. 

"Oh I am used to scrutiny by now my dear Inquisitor." He said in a lovely deep chuckle as his lips flashed his perfect teeth and stretched over his strong face. "I am more offended now that the man I am seeing has passed the opportunity to compliment his date." He raised an eyebrow slowly at Voyand, charming smile still in place. 

"I did not know you needed reassurance on your fine looks." Voyand replied, words coming smoothly from him when he bantered with Dorian like this. It was simple, he liked it a lot. Dorian hummed a laugh that was trapped between those thick warm lips. Voyand wanted to free it and see how it tasted on his own.

"Oh I do not but it makes me smile to hear it from you." He said, his voice low with allure yet high with his excitement. His voice was so light how he spoke quickly and drifted playfully on the breeze with every word. Dorian's hands, strong with thick fingers and prominent knuckles, slid delicately into the lapel of Voyand's suit and hooked the soft ribbon on the opposite side. He pulled the Inquisitor closer, tugging at his clothing to fix it up or perhaps that was a ruse to simply be close to him. Voyand noticed how much louder the whispers around them had become. Surely his favor must have been going down but he and Dorian had already discussed how their relationship could bring bad rumors. Dorian had been concerned not for himself but for Voyand, of what the people would think of the Inquisitor that was with a Magister's son. Perhaps seeing them together so closely would end the talk of him being manipulated by the mage. He hoped they could all feel the genuine joy he felt when Dorian's knuckles drifted up and down his hulking chest. "Well? I'm waiting." Dorian said lightly and Voyand noticeably seemed shocked for a moment. The Tevinter's teeth flashed again as Voyand looked sheepish. 

"You look...better than any dream I have ever had. I must be in the fade, being lulled by a vision of blinding temptation this evening." Voyand was proud of his compliment, and even prouder when Dorian's eyes widened. 

"Oh-ho!" His cheeks lifted with a wide smile and warmed rosily under his crinkled eyes. "I was expecting a simple, 'yes dear you look like a vision' but once again you go above and beyond don't you?" Dorian's fingers slid into the slit of his jacket, gliding across Voyand's undershirt and far closer to the steady thump of his heart resonating through his chest. Voyand set his large hands on Dorian's waist, lean on their own but seeming so tiny wrapped up in the Qunari's fingers. Dorian let out a thin sigh, his eyes slipping shut for a brief moment as the heat of Voyand's palms soaked through his jacket. "Those hands, I swear..." He trailed off, his lips curling up and his eyes slowly lifting. Warm, glistening honey peeked up at the Inquisitor through the thick and lush veil of Dorian's dark eyelashes. It seemed like the perfect time to kiss him, as Dorian watched him with fondness twinkling in his eyes. Voyand leaned down but surprisingly his lips were delicately tapped by three fingers. A rueful smile tugged up half of Dorian's cheek. 

"As much as I would adore kissing you right now, Inquisitor it is a bit indecent for the setting and you have a great deal of work to do." Voyand wondered if Dorian did want to kiss him and was answered by the way Dorian's fingers lingered on his bottom lip, how his gaze was slightly too low to be at his eyes, and by how instead of just removing his fingers he swiped them across the soft plump skin and couldn't resist dragging his thumb over it on the way to pull his hand down. It made Voyand smile and when Dorian's eyes drifted up to catch Voyand's knowing look he cleared his throat with mild embarrassment. 

"I am no good at playing this game, Dorian." Voyand sighed, his wide shoulders slumping. 

"Nonsense! From what I hear you aren't despised yet and for a Qunari that is quite the feat!" 

"Do you think I would last at one of the parties at your home?" Dorian chuckled and slid back to just lightly picking at pieces of Voyand's clothing, trying to wind himself slowly away from the pull of the large man so he could save the day. 

"I don't think you would make it through the front gates alive let alone set foot into the party." 

"Owch." Voyand smirked at Dorian and idly rubbed his thumbs up and down the thickening curve going up Dorian's ribcage. The man's eyes slipped shut again and his lips tucked into his mouth as they were sealed tightly. When they popped back out they looked far more plump and far more kissable. It was almost painful keeping himself at bay. 

"Do not take it personally, I am sure if not for what you were born with you would be able to play a perfectly murderous power hungry scoundrel." Dorian's hands had stopped moving and simply rest with flat palms across Voyand's chest. 

"Seems being a Qunari makes a lot of trouble for myself. Makes me wish the Herald could have been someone a little more likable." Voyand admitted, his expression light but less cheery than it was a moment before. Dorian's eyes locked on to his and his eyebrows came down giving his expression a severity to it. 

"Never be ashamed of who you were born as, Inquisitor. You _are_ a Qunari and a fine one at that. If these posh puppets don't like that then you have a far more striking noble who will keep **far** better conversation." Voyand smiled and his chest felt a little lighter from Dorian's words.

"Thank you, Dorian." 

"Now, take your hands off of me before I selfishly decide to keep you to myself all night, Empress be damned." Voyand removed his hands and felt an immediate longing to touch Dorian again and put his hands back in their place. The human's chest deflated slightly and he glanced around at all the eyes darting to and from the pair. "Come back if you have time. I'll keep an ear open for you and let you know if I have anything that would help. Listening seems to be all that I'll get to do tonight." He sighed dramatically and his bottom lip sweetly poked out in front of the top. Voyand heard a bell softly toll from within the palace, calling to the ballroom and he got a swift idea. 

"Dance with me?" He asked. Dorian laughed and again looked around them. 

"Here? It hardly seems the place and really we might just look like fools." Voyand shook his head and offered a dark, massive open palm up to Dorian to rest his small, warm hand upon. 

"In the ballroom. Will you accompany me for a dance before I have to do my job?" Dorian chuckled deeply with alluringly low lids and a playful smirk. He rested his hand atop Voyand's. 

"What a procrastinator! And here I admired you for working so hard, non-stop, always busy." Dorian stepped alongside Voyand, holding his hand towards the ballroom doors. 

"The Inquisition isn't the only thing I have to work for." Voyand said in a smooth low rumble. 

"It is, however, the most important." Dorian reminded him. 

"Yes, though you stand at a very close second." Dorian hummed with amusement and looked off at the walls. 

"I have never been happy before at being second..." He mused and yet he was smiling and his cheeks looked charmingly rosy. "One dance Inquisitor and then you must leave me not just for the world but so I can regain the charm you seem to have stolen from me tonight." 

"I promise I will return it to you when this is all over but I think I'll really need it." Voyand joked with Dorian all the way to the dancefloor which was covered in couples twirling in an unorganized free for all to a soft gentle waltz. Their shoes collectively and gently clicked on the hard shiny floor. 

"Will my smooth tongued way with words only return when I finally give in to kissing you, Inquisitor?" He asked, facing the large Qunari now.

"How did you know?" Voyand bent down to bow to Dorian and then straightened in a posture with his hands as rests for Dorian's. Dorian continued delightfully chuckling and pressed right up against Voyand's body. 

"You must have given me your incredibly stupid luck for it was just a guess."

"Amazing." Voyand led them off, pulling Dorian confidently towards himself while stepping back. Dorian winced subtly, glancing down at their feet as if expecting calamity but they stepped in perfect time, their feet in no danger of crushing by the other. His head snapped up quickly and his mouth dropped open. 

"No..." He laughed in disbelief and Voyand twirled the two of them around with ease. Dorian laughed again, louder. "Ahh! You dance!" He called in joy, a bright smile open wide on his face. 

"Of course," Voyand chuckled, "Did you think I would invite you to dance if I didn't know how?" Dorian shook his head, still giggling out his shock. 

"I had worried you would."

"And yet you still came down here with me." 

"Well as I stand right now I haven't got much to lose when it comes to my reputation. Being seen with the Inquisitor stomping on my toes wouldn't be the worst thing that people have seen of me." Dorian was radiant when he smiled and comforting. There was no daunting game with him, no worry of sneaky words and lies, just fun, how a game should be. 

Now relieved that the Inquisitor could dance, Dorian felt he could show off and enjoyed spinning around and around with the wind tickling the back of his neck while Voyand's massive heat kept all of him warm. His bright eyes were kind and warm, and delicate like flower petals which was funny comparing a flower to a battle trained mound of pure muscle with a handspan wider than Dorian's abdomen. The golden lights above them shone like tiny stars from the points on Voyand's horn armor and Dorian wondered why he even had that on. It hardly protected the horns but then he felt like perhaps he and Voyand had a little more in common when he thought of the glittering decorations on his own personal outfit. 

"Are you confident enough to let me lead?" Dorian asked with a quick jerk up of his eyebrow. Voyand's confidence wavered and he glanced away anxiously. 

"Josephine didn't teach me that. I know for sure I'll step on you if I try." Dorian let out a deep chesty laugh. 

"Ahh so you acquired secret lessons from Josephine? She did well and you picked it up marvelously." Voyand smiled at him with his dark, luscious lips and his eyes softened even more down on Dorian. How could a man with a chest as firm as rock seem so squishy to Dorian? He was fascinating. 

"They're watching us." Voyand mumbled, Dorian felt he was pointing out the obvious but noticed the crease in his messy dark eyebrows and realized Voyand was nervous. 

"Probably more me than you, don't worry. The dashing son of a Magister who has tempted and possibly bewitched the mighty Inquisitor. He's shown up like a tempting vision of their darkest desires, as you said, and after standing alone and aloof from all the jealous eyes his puppet arrives to show off his devastatingly handsome master to the huge court of nobles. Ha! Take that nobility, the boy you shunned has the world's most wanted Qunari captured in his eyes." Voyand laughed, his face stretching with a handsome smile and his laugh a chilling boom that rumbled in Dorian's chest. "Though if we really wanted to stick it to them you might want to put your hands on my backside. It isn't a ball without a little scandal and murder we Vints say." 

"I am far too much of a gentleman to do something like that!" Voyand said.

"Damn." Dorian smirked and winked at the large man who's worries were tossed far from their shuffling and spinning across the floor. "Speaking of murder, you should go. You have a very important one to prevent after all." The dark Qunari pouted, the song ended and the two of them bowed. The Inquisitor agreed and reluctantly slid off to join the game once again. Dorian was buzzing with energy, exhilarated and giddy and very happy he came to this event. He soaked in the eyes, all staring at him and lifted his chin. He walked off, feeling better than them all.

 

"Agh!" Dorian hacked in the back of his throat with distaste and his lip curled up angrily. It had been the third time he did this in a minute and he wondered if people may suspect he was attempting to spit off the banister down onto the ballroom floor. 

"What's this? The fancypants is off on his own hacking like a nug with a cold!" Bull's deep voice, spoken precisely came up behind him and the large Qunari engulfed his peripheral view. Dorian groaned and looked away from The Iron Bull. "What's wrong, Dorian? Did somebody show up wearing the same dress as you?" Dorian heard the smirk in The Bull's voice and he clicked his tongue irritably at him. "Oh how embarrassing looks like that's me! I could cheer you up with a little show and take off this stuffy...thing, y'know if you're interested." 

"Even if I was, which believe me is the farthest thing from the truth, you'd do a great deal of harm to the Inquisition's reputation if you suddenly decided to strip down in front of everyone!" Dorian grumbled.

"Aw I was just kidding!. What's wrong? This place seems exactly like your kind of gig. There's fancy idiots everywhere talking about debauchery and deceit and even some of your fancy rich boy magic. Why aren't you squeezing between sweaty corsets and puffy pants for a slice of this action?" Dorian eased up a little and sighed. 

"No one at this party would dare risk the shame of speaking to me. I could have come to this ball naked and I doubt anyone would have turned an eye to me to notice." Bull hummed in amusement and chuckled. 

"That certainly would have made this thing more fun." He said. 

"I'm sure." Dorian glanced to the side at Bull and then looked down at the dance floor. 

"So you're upset that nobody is talking to you? You have the Inquisition here to talk to you know." Bull kept prodding and Dorian heaved a great sigh. 

"I couldn't care less anymore about being social, I was actually thinking of perfecting my sexy brooding look off in the corner there..." 

"Buuut instead, you're twisting up your tiny string moustache and hacking into the air, lacking that sexy quality you were going for by the way." Dorian clicked his tongue again and scowled. 

"Thanks for telling me, I'll work on it." He said snappily. Iron Bull followed where Dorian was looking, down onto the dance floor and saw the Inquisitor, dancing like a proper fancy man with The Grand Duchess whateverhernamewas. He looked funny, like a bear dressed in a suit and top hat prancing around on two legs through the little field of tiny humans. He looked out of place amongst the short people and their blindingly white clothes. 

"Is it him?" Iron Bull pointed down at Voyand, Dorian glanced at Bull's thick finger and then groaned. "Aha! So you're jealous."

"I am not jealous!" Dorian scoffed and turned his nose up from Bull. "The idea..." He snuffed.

"You are I can tell!" Iron Bull pointed his finger at Dorian and the mage was tempted to singe it off. 

"Yes, with your acute senses of perception and knowledge of the human brain, hm? What ox school taught you that? And where did you have time to learn between mindless obedience class and whipping around a sword class?" Dorian got more angry than he had intended to and felt shame for it. Iron Bull didn't respond at first and just hummed while watching the Inquisitor twirl around the stickly blonde human noble. 

"He's an 'ox' too you know." Bull said. Dorian winced. "He may not be Qunari or Ben-Hassrath but he's not you." 

"I am aware." Dorian grumbled. 

"So-"

"I didn't mean it." Dorian interrupted Bull quickly, "I don't think of you as oxmen...especially not him." Bull hummed again and Dorian was irritated by it. He wanted the Qunari brute to talk and not pretend he was so thoughtful. "Yes, I'm a little jealous." Dorian sighed before Bull could say anything to invoke more anger from him. 

"Knew it." Bull said smugly and leaned both massive arms on the railing. Dorian scowled at him. "Whoa that's too much, your face looks too wrinkled to be sexy!" Dorian sighed and rolled his eyes. "You thinking he'd leave you?" 

"The thought has passed my mind. I am a sure bet, an open book and quite publicly swinging for only one side. Him however..." Dorian gazed off as the dance ended and Voyand bowed to the Duchess like a proper gentleman. "I can't even guarantee he only likes men." 

"He probably doesn't. It's stupid to limit yourself to just one type of person when what really matters is the feeling of the two of you slapping skin when the moon is up...and when it's down..." Bull grinned lecherously. "Any time is good really the time doesn't matter either." 

"Well not all of us can be so open. I can confidently tell you I have not and never _will_ feel the pull to 'slap skin' with a woman." 

"Look, Dorian," The Bull smacked a painfully strong hand on the mage's back and it was far too warm much like Voyand's but unpleasantly moist, "The Inquisitor is with you, right now and he's putting on a show because he has to in this place. Him dancing with one noble doesn't mean he's not going to want to plow you-" 

"Ugh!"

"But I think you should hurry with that because if your arse is as good as it looks, he won't think of anyone else." Dorian felt both flattered and offput by Bull's advice. He felt stupid for even feeling like he needed it. 

"Unless he's like you and after he's had me and the chase is done he'll leave." Dorian groaned, dropping his head into his open hands. 

"Hey now! I'd have you way more than just once before I moved on! Like I said, your arse looks good." Dorian groaned again feeling no better but at least talking with The Iron Bull passed time. Varric ran up to the two of them, the tiny but attractive dwarf's waddle run almost had him smiling again. 

"Inquisitor needs us, he's checking out some stuff that's a little out of bounds." The blond man said, jerking a thumb back towards the Vestibule doors. 

"Ah, fun. Snooping around castles and digging up palace secrets should cheer me up." He said, fixing the creases in his suit. 

"And if the blood I saw by the garden means anything maybe a bit of killing too." Bull nudged Dorian a little too hard with his elbow but after wincing Dorian smiled. 

"Feels like home suddenly." The three of them left to go join the Inquisitor as he searched the Servant's Quarters.

The party turned out to be far more interesting as the night went on: Murder, treachery, and a great deal more murder. Voyand took a dark comfort that at least he wasn't out amongst the humans. Fighting was far more desirable and easier for him. It turned out that the three people closest to the Empress were all masking betrayal and oddly enough the occult advisor was both honest and an asset to the Inquisitor. They fought their way through the back of the palace, digging up clues and incriminating evidence against The Duke and uncovering Briala's plot. The Empress chose poor company to keep and after exposing Florianne and having her publicly arrested Voyand exposed both cousins' deceit to The Empress. He had succeeded and The Empress continued at her ball without so much as a scratch on her. Things could have gone far, far worse and Voyand felt incredibly lucky and accomplished. He couldn't have done it without his companions as well as fantastic timing. 

As the excitement winded down in the palace, Voyand took a moment of solitude outside on a balcony. He could see the mountains and the soft glow of lights piercing the darkness below him from the town. The ball was a noisy hum behind him but ahead was serenity. It was dark and the crisp air was cool on his face. With every breath his chest felt lighter and the cold air helped to soothe the ache his entire body carried. There were a billion stars above him, an endless canopy of tiny twinkling lights silently glimmering for him to admire but he didn't get to enjoy the scenery for long as Morrigan, the occult advisor interrupted him for a chat. She was a reminder that this wasn't all over. He had saved The Empress, yes, however Corypheus would not be defeated with this small victory. His duty grounded him, painfully so and strengthened the aching under his skin. He sighed tiredly and leaned with more weight than before on the banister when Morrigan stiffly shuffled away from him. Dorian's voice chimed behind him as he quickly took Morrigan's place speaking to the Inquisitor. 

"Quickly becoming quite popular aren't we, Inquisitor? I just spoke with a few nobles down there all trying _desperately_ to find you and show you their eligible daughters. Of course the only time they bother with me is to pry out your location." Dorian sighed lightly and leaned his arms on the banister, beside Voyand. "Don't worry though, I told them you had left. You're very welcome for that." He looked over to see Voyand's distant expression as the Qunari gazed up at the stars disappearing beyond the horizon. His eyes looked so bright when the moon shone across them but Dorian didn't waste a moment to stare just yet. "Something the matter? You don't look like a man who just saved the Empress of Orlais from three counts of attempted murder." 

"It's been a long night." Voyand's voice was heavy and the way he leaned on the banister made it seem like the structure was the only thing keeping him up. 

"Ah, yes I tend to forget that these sorts of events don't invigorate people as much as they do me. Then again, perhaps I'm just a bit uplifted from all the wine I drank." Voyand cracked a smile but didn't turn his gaze from the endless dark sky. 

"How drunk are you right now?" He asked. 

"Not very. I hold my drink better than most people...depending on the drink. Be thankful my family's sweet wine wasn't at this party or you may have had a far different dance with me in the ballroom." Voyand chuckled and Dorian smiled victoriously. 

"Josephine didn't teach me about that kind of dance." 

"Thank goodness for that! Perhaps sometime in the privacy of your bedchambers I'll give you a private lesson, hm?" Voyand finally turned his head to look at him and Dorian could see how tired he was even as he smiled, the way his dark skin sagged around his eyes just slightly.

"I'm sure it's quite the sight to behold." 

"It absolutely is, but I think for now a proper dance is in order." Dorian stepped back and lifted a hand for Voyand to rest his own atop it. 

"Are you implying back in the ballroom wasn't proper?" Voyand said with a smirk and turned away from the banister. 

"Of course not! You were fantastic Inquisitor but _I_ was absolutely jittery with nerves." 

"You?" Voyand said skeptically and raised a bushy eyebrow as his hand slid into Dorian's. It was almost comical seeing it tipping Dorian's smaller hand back, almost engulfing it entirely. 

"Yes, me. Every eye in the room was on us, I was practically trembling." Dorian smirked and Voyand knew he was fibbing. 

"Ah, something you are not at all accustomed to I'm sure." Voyand stepped back and Dorian followed. 

"Well the trembling certainly not in that setting." Dorian lifted both eyebrows at Voyand and his lids lowered suggestively which had the Qunari shocked silent for a moment. 

"Having eyes all on you, Dorian." He clarified sternly. Dorian threw his head back and let out a rich chesty laugh as they stepped slowly in a little box pattern to the muffled sounds of the music streaming from inside. 

"I confess I just couldn't get enough of you, Inquisitor. Is it wrong for me to want just one more dance before we leave all this classy air and finery?" 

"Not at all though, Dorian, would you allow me to satisfy myself as well?" Dorian's smug lips loosened slightly and his eyes turned round and curious. Voyand looked down at him, so strong and sculpted and yet in that moment vulnerable. He slid his hands down and carefully wound his fingers around the human's waist. A thin gentle sigh slid out as Dorian's lips parted and his eyelids fell. He knew what Voyand was about to do and he stepped closer to meet him to it. Voyand stooped down and beneath a thousand sparkling lights with the dark peaceful mountains at one side and the boisterous gala on the other he kissed Dorian. Dorian's thick, rigid fingers climbed up the curl of Voyand's massive back and laced together at the base of his neck where the ends of his braids laid. A shiver darted down the Qunari's spine and he sought to return it to Dorian. He held his hips a little tighter and pressed their lips a little harder which earned him a satisfying little gasp being sucked in against his mouth. 

"Thank the maker you finally did it." Dorian mumbled, his smirk back and Voyand stole it away with another warm kiss. 

"You stopped me the first time." Voyand reminded him, unwilling to part more than an inch from Dorian to speak. His moustache slightly tickled his upper lip and his breath tasted mildly spicy though Voyand couldn't place what it was. He saw honey eyes flicker up to look at his own, he could see them so closely shining and bright with his pupils almost stealing away that sweet ring of colour. 

"And I regretted it entirely since."

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to do this because, DAMN I wanted my Inquisitor to dance with Dorian in the ballroom! Their balcony scene was so cute I aint complaining but like, hnghhhhh and so to satisfy myself I wrote this.


End file.
